


Paradise

by reciprocityfic (orphan_account)



Category: Dancing with the Stars (US) RPF, Maksyl - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Maksyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 15:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2353328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/reciprocityfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maks and Meryl spend a day with Jenna at the beach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! I finally found time to write fic. (I win this round, eff you college.)
> 
> This is my obligatory Malibu fic.
> 
> Love and thanks to you all. xo.

Most people come to the beach to lay on the shore or play in the ocean or marvel at the scenery.

He came to marvel at her, solely.

*             *             *

He’d woken up to her slowly kissing her way down his neck, and he moaned softly, because she was the most startlingly  _pleasurable_ alarm to which he’d ever had the privilege of awaking.

(That’s what being with her was. A  _privilege,_ through and through, and he never forgot it.)

He would’ve been perfectly content to stay with her in bed for a few more moments, and to  _keep_  her in bed for the rest of the day (the rest of  _eternity_ ), but as soon as his eyes cracked open her lips stilled, and she whispered breathlessly.

“Malibu.”

The tone of her voice told him that she was excited, that she was going to the beach with her boyfriend and her best friend, and that he was not going to change her mind, so he shouldn’t even try.

Fine.  But he’d rather stay at home, wrapped up in sheets and her, and he smacked her playfully on the ass as she crawled off of him to let her know.

When he sat up, she was fishing through her drawer in his dresser ( _her_  drawer in  _his_ dresser).  She pulled out a black bikini, the one she’d been wearing in that tree picture from Hawaii.  He’d been half a world away, and it was three in the morning island time when he saw it.  There was nothing he could do about it, and he  _died_  inside.  He’d been dreaming of that fucking bikini ever since.

She put it down on the bed and skipped into the bathroom.  He stared at the swimsuit, laid out over his white sheets.

Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

*             *             *

He’d left the bedroom to put on a pot of coffee and when he came back, she was slipping one of his shirts over her swimsuit.  There was no doubting that he  _loved_  seeing her in his clothes, but he had seen her in his clothes yesterday (and the day before that and the day before that and the day before _that_ ).  He had a sense he might appreciate what was under that shirt a bit more at the moment.

He approached her from behind, reached out his fingers and started to tease the hem of the white pullover.

She smacked his hands away, turned around, looked up at him and murmured, “ _Patience_ , Maksim, is a  _virtue_ ,” smirking smugly.  She pushed past him and pulled on a pair of tiny jean shorts, then sauntered out of the room.

He could only stare after her, mouth slightly agape, dick half hard.  She would be the death of him, he was sure of it.

He couldn’t think of a lovelier way to die.

*             *             *

Jenna talked animatedly to Meryl from the backseat the entire ride to the beach.  He stayed silent, though, focusing on his foot on the gas pedal and his hands on the steering wheel, desperately trying to  _not_  focus on the way she was stroking her index finger up and down the inside of his thigh.

The one hour duration of the journey was filled with Jenna and Meryl’s banter and giggles, while Meryl kept on caressing him like it was nothing.  Like each movement didn’t nearly make him lose it, pull the car over to the side of the road and take her, Jenna and random passersby be damned.  He was absolutely  _bursting_ inside.  She was torturing him, and it was equal parts cruel and beautiful.

As soon as they arrived at their destination, he hopped out of the car.  Jenna had already gathered her things and started off, but he grabbed Meryl’s arm before she could follow her friend, and held her against the passenger door.  His fingers gravitated towards the hem of the shirt, and he tugged.

“Were you  _trying_  to kill us on the way over here?  Make me swerve and drive us all over the cliff?”

His voice was low, gruff.  She looked up at him from under her eyelashes, eyes wide, her mouth a small ‘o’, in mock-astonishment.

“What  _ever_  could you mean?”

“You know  _exactly_ what I mean,” he told her, pressing her into the metal of the car with his hips.  Her eyes fluttered closed for a second before she managed to regain her feigned innocence, and he grinned pridefully that he could elicit that kind of reaction from her.  His hand crept under the shirt, and he looped his fingers under her bikini bottom at her hip and pulled her closer to him.

“Not  _yet_ ,” she hissed, removing his hand from her skin and intertwining their fingers, placing them on her stomach, above her shirt.  He was about to protest when he heard Jenna bounding up behind them.  He almost growled in frustration as Jenna grabbed her arm and pulled her from him.  He felt cold, despite the eighty-odd degree temperature.

“What’s  _taking_  you two so long?  Come  _on_ , I want to go to the beach.”

“Maks is being difficult,” she answered cheekily, and he rolled his eyes as he grabbed his towel from the backseat.

Jenna sighed, and linked arms with the both of them, leading them towards the walkway to the coast.

“Well, he should get over it.  I’ve only gotten to see my best friend a few times this week because we’ve been so busy.  You two have been practically living together.”

*             *             *

It was true.  For the past three days, they had been practically living together, and it had been wonderful and seamless and  _right_.  He never wanted it to end.

(It would have to end, tomorrow.  It always had to end.

But until tomorrow, they had forever.)

*             *             *

Most people come to the beach to lay on the shore or play in the ocean or marvel at the scenery.

He came to marvel at her, solely.

He spread his towel on the sand, and then had a seat.  Jenna took off towards the ocean with her camera.  Meryl laid out both her and Jenna’s towels, and then situated their things on top of them.  She stretched, and took a moment to appreciate the landscape around them before beginning to fiddle with the shirt.

He launched himself up, coming up behind her and grabbing her wrists.

“Excuse me,” he whispered in her ear.  “I believe that is my job.”

She shivered against him, and then sighed dramatically, taking a step forward and reaching out her arms over her head.

“Have at it.”

He was all too eager to fulfill her request.  He gathered the bottom of the shirt in his hands, and then gradually pulled it up over her head.  He felt like a kid opening his first present on Christmas morning.

And there she was, in all her pale, petite, muscular glory, brunette locks flowing down her back and dancing in the light breeze.  She was clad in that  _fucking_  black bikini, and seeing her actually in it was, as always, better than any pictures or dreams.  It was paradise.

(But the way she turned and fell into his bare chest, a content smile on her face, and placed a kiss over his heart before getting up on her tiptoes and capturing his lips with hers, made it heaven.)

*             *             *

He ended up falling asleep because she was a ball of constant, reactive energy, and being with her meant being stimulated relentlessly, in body and mind and soul.  He had meant to just rest for a few minutes, but he opened his eyes groggily and realized that he had dozed off.  The sun’s still-high position in the sky let him know that it hadn’t been for long, and he sat up, scanning his surroundings.

He found her standing where the ocean met the shore, Jenna trying to take some ridiculous picture of her jumping up in the air and touching her toes.

He grinned, because she was adorable and beautiful and he could’ve just watched her be  _her_  all day and never get bored.

But he didn’t want to just watch her.  He wanted to  _touch_  her.

He got up, and stretched the stiffness of sleep out of his muscles.  And then he took off towards her.

She was so wrapped up in her picture endeavors with Jenna that she didn’t notice him until he was _right there_ , scooping her up and running with her into the water.  She screamed in surprise, and he could vaguely hear Jenna shouting protests from land, but he was waist-deep in the water already and was not going back.  She told him to stop, that she was freezing, that he was being rude and she wanted to get out.  He might have believed her, if her protests weren’t sandwiched between her incessant, delighted giggles.  If she didn’t cling to him, if she didn’t nuzzle her face into his neck.

He kept walking until the water was up to his shoulders.  They had passed the point where the waves broke, and the ocean quietly rocked around them.  Jenna was a speck on the sand, and they were alone for the first time since that morning.

Her arms were wrapped around his head, her legs around his waist.  She was so tiny, and he realized that if he let her go, her whole body would be under.

“Are you scared, princess?”

“No,” she answered immediately.  But her limbs tightened around his body.

“It’s okay.  I’ve got you.”

He’d had her since the day he met her.  He saw her and grasped her hand and started to dance with her, and it had taken five minutes for her to take root under his skin.  She required his attention and his protection and his love, and he would give them to her until the last day of everything.

He pressed his lips to her cheek, and she took his face in her hands, turning her head so he kissed her mouth.  She tasted like salt and summer and promises.

The air was hot and the water was cold and she was the sun, warming him from the inside out.

*             *             *

They stayed at the beach long enough to watch the sunset, Meryl seated on his lap, Jenna resting her head half on his shoulder, half on her best friend’s.  The two girls fell asleep on the way back.  He drove with one hand, because she was holding his other in her lap, even in slumber.  He watched her head bob up and down out of the corner of his eye the entire way home, and he fell more deeply in love with her every second.

After they had dropped Jenna off, the anticipation of finally finishing what she had started, when she teased him with that bikini, built exponentially.  By the time they got to his house, he was  _giddy_ , and he helped her gather their things and then jogged to the front door.  As soon as they were in the entranceway, he slammed it behind them.  They dropped their beach items on the floor, and she jumped on his back, wrapping her legs around his abdomen and burying her face in his hair.  He carried her into the bathroom and set her down on the sink.  He stripped, and then turned to her.  Smirking, she reached her arms above her head like she had that afternoon, letting him peel that shirt off one more glorious time.  Then, he kneeled in front of her.  She swung her legs up and let them rest on his shoulders.  He lifted his arms and grabbed the hem of her bikini bottoms, hesitating.

She stared down at him expectantly, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Well?” she questioned.

There was a part of him that wanted to tease her, to ghost his fingertips up and down her legs and get up, telling her that,  _“ **Patience** , Meryl, is a  **virtue**_ ,”  and then walking out of the bathroom, leaving her to shower on her own.

But a larger part of him could feel forever ticking away one second at a time, so he pulled the bottoms down.  He got up and helped her take off her top, and then stole a moment to appreciate her and how gorgeous she was.  He loved her in his clothes, and in a bikini, but what lied under those would always be the best, undoubtedly.

“Maks.”

Her voice pulled him from his trance, and he smiled at her, leaning down and kissing her on the nose before taking her hand and leading her into the shower.  The water was hot as it pounded against their skin, washing the remnants of Malibu down the drain.  She wet her hair, and then leaned forward against him.  He wrapped his arms around her, and tucked her head under his chin.

The inevitability of tomorrow suddenly came over him, began to weigh on his spirit as if it were an anvil tied around his neck.

“Don’t go.”

She exhaled slowly.

“I have to go.”

“I know.  But, just…don’t go,” he begged.  “Please don’t go.”

His voice broke.  She snuggled further into him.

“Shhhh, baby.  It’s going to be okay.”

“I  _hate_  it when you’re gone.  I miss you  _so fucking much_.”

She lifted her head, and stared up at him.  There was liquid in her eyes, and a single tear fell and mixed with the droplets the shower had placed on her cheeks.

“I know,” she said, reaching up, running her fingers along his jaw and bringing them to rest on his mouth.  “I miss you, too.  More than anything.  But it won’t be that long.  I’m going to come home soon.”

He kissed her fingers.

“And we have right now,” she reminded him.  “We have tonight.”

“That we do,” he murmured.

He hugged her to him one more time, and then lifted her off the floor, capturing her lips with his.

*             *             *

She broke him, gently.

She infiltrated his walls, destroyed his defenses, picked apart every front, act, and safeguard he showed to the world until all that was left in front of her was his very essence.  His heart and his soul.

It was terrifying.  It was freeing.  It was  _beautiful_.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
